


On Secrets and Fantasies

by PullingSunflowers



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/F, Sibling Incest, if youre interested chapters 2 and 7 and 8 are pwp, very very very hard R rating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-13 04:37:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3368126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PullingSunflowers/pseuds/PullingSunflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of unrelated Elsanna oneshots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. On Revenge Fantasies

Elsa appeared over his cell, a silhouette cloaked in moonlight. It took a dismissive nod toward the guards to send them away. _How the tables have turned_ , Han thought bitterly. Not a night ago had he risen over her, sword in hand and the taste of a crown on the tips of his tongue. Now, she hovers over him like a ghost who will not leave.

The sound of the lock breaking draws his attention and Elsa makes quick work of the cell’s door. It slides open, metal and metal, that metallic grind sounding off and Hans has never feared a noise such as the one he just heard. He had judged the confides to be a restrictive measure against his escape but he never knew it could be the only barrier that stood between him and the witch.

Elsa, Queen of Arrendelle, stooped low to his level and grappled his jaw with a single cold hand. 

“You let my sister to die.” The grip on his jaws tightened.He had heard her voice turn courteous to visiting noblemen, strained when talking to her sister, even sobbing against the girl’s frozen form. This, however, was a voice he’d only hear amongst the most desperate of men. A low rumble emitted from the bottom of her throat, formed by her vocal cords into words that he caused every hair to stand on edge. “You would have killed her again had the ice not broken your blade. Consider yourself lucky that Anna vouched for your exile for I would have favored a harsher consequence.”

His face grew numb. The ground beneath him became slippery and his breath turned into plumes of mist. Hans realized, for the first time, this is what it felt like to fear for his life.

“If you dare to step into Arrendelle’s land, if I hear a single report of your mingling with anything relating to the person I treasure most, I will hunt you down. No sea, no ocean, no mountain, no amount of distance you put between yourself and I will be enough to save you, Hans.” Blue eyes ablaze, Elsa let go of his jaw.

The jail closed, the lock replaced by unbreakable ice. She hardly spared him a second look before leaving

 

 


	2. On Kneeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grinding is fun, yeah?

There was only one person in all of Arrendelle Elsa knelt for.

Anna’s hand reached forward, gripping white blonde locks in desperate frenzy. Elsa could't resist and looked up at the sight that was Anna; situated on _her_ throne, other hand pressed against her mouth, skirt pushed up to the high point of her waist, legs spread perversely wide apart.

Elsa met eyes with her sister. Smiling, she flicked her tongue onto Anna, licking her slowly through the silken fabric of her smallcloths. Anna reacted violently, body twisting upon her throne, thighs trembling and mouth gasping open. Oh how she loved to make that mouth _sing_.

After a few more tentative strokes onto that secret, sweet place of Anna’s, Elsa pulled back. Even in the dimmed moonlight, she could see her sister’s blush, turquoise eyes set aglow with want. Tugging at the hand that Anna had used to silence her moans, Elsa pulled it to her mouth and kissed her knuckles.

Elsa gave agonizingly slow kisses, kisses she knew Anna would have preferred elsewhere. How strange she thought this erotic, Elsa mused as her tongue flicked and swirled around Anna’s fingertip before taking a shaking finger into her own mouth. Anna whimpered.

Soon enough, she released the finger and stood up, hovering over the other girl’s limp body. Elsa didn’t hesitate to pull her dress high, and then even higher, just enough so that she could angle a leg and slam a thigh between the juncture of Anna’s leg. Even through a single, wet layer of fabric, Anna couldn’t conceal her pleasure. Hips rutting, Anna wrapped her arms around Elsa and pulled her down so that their bodies pressed obscenely together.

Elsa could feel the thunder of Anna’s heart, the heady breaths of uninhibited arousal, feel the way Anna ground against her thigh as if it were her last hope of release. Wetness pooled at her centre but she chose to ignore it in favor of pleasing her younger sister. After all, how could she resist?

“Elsa, Elsa, Elsa, _Elsa_ ,” Anna was repeating her name like a chant, a hymn to the gods above. Elsa answered with kisses, peppering it on whatever skin she could come into contact with. Her hands came to grip Anna’s fervent hips, helping  apply pressure and Anna whined with agreement.

Anna nudged Elsa away from kissing her neck. They met eyes again and Elsa couldn’t have imagined another person looking at Elsa as if their entire world was her, just her, with so much need and want. Of the guards that served her, of the knights that pledged loyalty to the crown, of the suitors who pledged their hearts to Elsa, no one could compare to her sister.

“Elsa, Elsa, Elsa. Please,” beckoned Anna and Elsa responded with short, hard thrusts.

Anna’s back arched, her entire body spasmed and Elsa had to force her mouth onto Anna’s to silence her scream. Arms wrapped impossibly tight around Elsa’s back, Anna continued to whisper her name as she came down from her high, occasionally pressing eager kisses here and here.

Shortly after the haze of lust faded Anna, having been satisfied, looked contently up at Elsa. A tired smile spread across the girl’s face and it took all she knew not to take Anna again just because she could. This was her kingdom after all, her throne, her sister, _hers_.  

“Shall we retire to your bedchambers, my Queen?” Anna eventually said.

Elsa kissed her little sister’s temple, dragging her lips across the small surface. “We shall,” she replied, “once your legs are working again.”

 

 


	3. On Myths

They were sharing their favorite stories around the campfire. Anna bit her bottom lip, chewing on the flesh and contemplating hard.

“Anna?”

“Yeah?” Anna looked up, perking at Elsa’s voice. “Right! Favorite story!”

Downing the last of really unpleasant beer, Anna began. “So, this isn’t a well known story but I was researching for a paper in writing class and came upon it.

“Basically, it’s a story about the stars.” Anna looked up, “Somewhere in the Milky Way lived a star-god, a lonely shepherd boy that herded his cows across the skies. He met a beautiful seamstress, and they fell in love. But the King of the Heavens, who happened to be the seamstress’ father, didn’t approve of their love so he separated them.”  

A chorus of awws came from the group. “They say that once a year, because their love was so strong, a guiding force allowed them to navigate the ocean of stars and meet. Just for a day.” Anna smiles ironically, putting up her best front. “Cheesy right?”

Rapunzel nudged her side lightly. “You’re Anna, of course you would like the star-crossed lovers fairytale.”

Later, Anna offered to clean up as the group disappeared into their tents to rest for the next day’s hike. She hoped Elsa was asleep by the time she finished so that she wouldn’t have to converse with her older sister. Talking would be so bad, she thought, but they were in a tent, sleeping side by side. It’s gotten harder and harder to ignore her feelings and the last thing she needed, the last thing she wanted was to ruin the only chance she had at having any kind of relationship with Elsa. A small voice called Anna back to reality.

“You didn’t finish the story.”

Anna whirled around. There stood Elsa, her usually braided hair let down into a glorious mane. There was beauty, Anna admired, and then there was Elsa.

“Yeah...” Anna shook her head, blinking rapidly. “Wait. What?”

Elsa walked over and took a seat next to her on the makeshift log bench. “Your story, you didn’t finish it.”

Anna’s face heated. She looked away and stared at her hands. “I, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Elsa, ever the patient sister, slipped her hand into Anna’s and tangled their fingers together. “Would you like to know how it ended then?” The way Elsa said it, the calmness in her voice said she knew that Anna's response was a lie. Of course Anna knew the ending.

“Yeah."

_Oh god, was this really happening?_

“One day when the seamstress and the shepherd boy went to meet but the King caught them. Depending on the variations, the couple was either sent to execution or committed suicide together.” Elsa took a breath. “Either way, they vowed to never be separated again. Ever since, the lovers have been reborn as siblings in each life.”

Anna grew light headed. Elsa knew. How long had Elsa known?

“Elsa...” Anna tried to pull her hand away, closing her eyes and willing back the tears.

“Look at me,” Elsa whispered, “Anna, please.”

“I don’t--I can’t.”

“Look at me so I can kiss you properly,” Elsa demanded, causing Anna to tremble. Elsa sounded like a queen. How could she deny such a request?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story Anna and Elsa are talking is Orihime and Tentei, which is basically the backstory of the Tanabata in Japan. (Everything will be daijobou....)


	4. On Afternoons and Secrets Kisses

Their mother was situated in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge and cleaning out its contents when Elsa returned home from class. Hearing her sister’s arrival, Anna bolted from the kitchen, still covered in flour.

“Making cookies?” Elsa asked as she put away her thick winter coat, diligently hanging it up on the rack.

Smiling sheepishly and displaying her white dusted hands, Anna nodded. Elsa’s gaze shifted to their mother who was preoccupied with the refrigerator. “Is Dad home?” she asked. Anna shook her head mischieviously.

Quickly, Elsa pressed her lips on Anna’s, relishing in the taste of chocolate.

“Welcome home,” Anna announced once they separated, pink tongue dipping out and licking her lips.

“Oh, Elsa, honey!” Their mother called from the kitchen, “good timing. Your sister’s making cookies for you.”

Elsa shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Anna never makes cookies for anyone, Mom. They’re for herself.”

“You’re right,” Anna said under her breath as they began to walk to the kitchen together. “They’re all mine. You’re mine.”

 

 


	5. On Types

“Okay, favorite female celebrities.”

“Natalie Dormer. Ugh. What that woman does to me.”  Anna let out a dreamy hum, obviously slipping into daydream land. “Also, Diane Kruger. And Charlize Theron in the Snow White movie.”

Rapunzel raised an eyebrown and looked over to Elsa. “So, you basically like blondes who look like they could snap your neck in bed.”

“I guess,” Anna said, puffing her cheeks and thinking hard. “What about you, Elsa?”

“Sophie Turner,” Elsa replied with little hesitation, nodding her head. “Um. If I had to chose a female celebrity, I mean.”

Rapunzel’s eyebrow raised even higher and looked at Anna who just happened to be a redhead. “Oh....okay.”

Anna took a bite of her salad and Elsa had already maneuvered for a napkin to clean the inevitable spot of ranch that remained at the corner of Anna’s lip. “Thanks,” Anna said, looking doe eyed at Elsa as she wiped away the white sauce. “Don’t understand how this keeps happening.”

“You’ve been like this since you were five.” Elsa smiled, no, glowed at her sister. “I think you think your mouth is bigger than what it actually is.”

Rapunzel blinked hard. She must have gone insane.

 

 


	6. On Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogwarts AU.

She was seventeen at the time, at the age where her body had finally decided it was a woman and her knees weren’t gangly, and the last of her baby fat had faded away to show off her high cheekbones. Even the seventh year boys, the ones who fawned over Elsa, had begun to take notice in her.

Maria had bought Amortentia from the Weasley’s joke shop for a pretty galleon and they were all took turns passing the vial around to smell its subjective scent. Anna had thought she would’ve smelled something like reindeer and man sweat but when the potion makes it way to her, she declares it broken.

Anna scrunches her nose and takes another whiff. “Yep, definitely broken.” She returns the glass vial to Maria, “all I smell is Elsa.”


	7. On Warmth

Elsa touches her like she’s never felt the skin of another being. Anna relishes in this, in the way Elsa grabs her by the hand and pulls her to a dark corner in the castle or a secluded portion of the gardens just for a few secret moments of lust, how Elsa craves the feel of her hands dip beneath the hem of her dress, how Elsa seems to live for the moments Anna’s fingers graze across her hand during supper.

Elsa may have the kingdom but Anna has Elsa and there isn’t much more she could want. Besides, who needs land and titles when you have a queen. A queen, who, happen to be very fond of long nights rolling in the bedsheets and favored her sister’s touch than any man’s.

At night, nimble hands fondle here and there, smoothing down velvet skin and press into the curve of Anna’s hips. She thinks they’re making up for all those years, those moments where they could’ve touched but never did, years of closed doors and closed hearts. Was this desperate? Deprived? Dysfunctional, unhealthy, and sickly twisted the way they craved each other more than any pair of sisters should?

Perhaps. Maybe it was their childhood, the dead parents, there were so many things Anna could cite to explain why Elsa’s kiss feels better than Kristoff’s. Instead, Anna concentrates on the way Elsa looks at her, as if she were her salvation, her only chance at breathing. Hans made her feel noticed, Kristoff made her feel important, Elsa makes her feel...hot.

Needed. Desperately wanted. Her older sister clamps her mouth on her shoulder, sucking hard, and presses her naked front against Anna’s back, hands running about and feeling her skin like Elsa yearned to melt and mold around her.

“Hey,” Elsa is pressing her against the wall, “Elsa, not so hard.”

Those lips leave her shoulders with a pop and Anna knows she’ll have to dress herself tomorrow. There was no way she could explain to her army of handmaidens how she could attain such peculiar blemishes.

Feeling the disappointment pulse from Elsa’s soft growl, Anna forces herself from the wall and turns around. They meet lips, hungry and wet. No sooner, Elsa is tugging at Anna’s bodice, shredding the piece with urgency.

It should be cold, Anna thinks as Elsa grabs at her breasts, not rough though certainly not gently either. She’s heard the maids and certain suitors lucky enough to press a courtly kiss on the back of Elsa’s hands comment that they were ice cold. Her entire body should be chill but Anna’s never felt anything but warmth from touching Elsa.

Elsa breaks away from their kiss. “What are you thinking of,” she asks, looking straight into Anna’s eyes.

Oh yes, Queen Elsa of Arendelle has a very jealous side. Anna could only imagine the possibilities brewing in her sister’s mind to explain Anna’s slightly unresponsive behavior. If only she took a single moment to look at the way Anna returned her feelings, at the way Anna pushed the door to Elsa’s study open and knelt beneath the table just to sate her cravings. If only her older sister could press her ears against her chest every time Elsa even looked at her, Elsa would be much less insecure about Anna’s affections.

Instead, Anna smiles brightly in response. “You,” she says as  she grabs at Elsa’s bare hands. No more gloves, no more closed doors, just skin, the barest of all human forms pressed against each other. She kisses her open palm, daring to peak her tongue out to tease at soft skin.

“Just you,” Anna inhales in deeply. “How warm you are.”

“Good.” Elsa returns to attacking her neck, swirling her tongue at the juncture of her collar. Soon, Anna loses all thought.

 

 


	8. On Company

Elsa kisses her sister like she’s the last breath of air Elsa will ever breath. Elsa mashes their lips together and thinks with clarity that she’s never felt such a chill ripple through her spine. Elsa presses their bodies together and, for the first time in her life, feels as if she is overheating.

There’s something about the way Anna looks at her that makes Elsa’s skin warm, the way her sister’s green eyes are half lidded and her cherry lips purse, breathing heady puffs of air. Threading her fingers in strawberry blonde hair, Elsa draws her sister’s head back, marveling in the white skin of Anna’s long neck.

Anna whines when Elsa pulls the younger girl deeper in her lap, eagerly licking the strip of exposed skin. Deft hands slip past her plated long skirt, dragging the silky fabric above her thighs and Elsa can’t help but moan when she feels her little sister’s hand play at the lace of her smallcloths.

"It’s midday," Elsa warns, drawing back from Anna’s neck. Her voice holds no conviction, she knows, but it feels wrong not to mention the way she has Anna, her sister, her princess, her lover, in the Queen’s study. How would it look, Elsa wonders, if a servant girl were to enter her at the moment. Elsa wets her lips at the image; Anna straddling her hips, thin and feminine hands wrapping around a lithe waist, the juxtaposition of seeing two sisters pressed intimately together.

Anna pauses, just for a moment, before giving her a blinding smile. The bare fingers playing at Elsa’s waist dip beneath cloth, cupping her with purpose. Elsa hisses. Anna smiles wider.

"Shall I be taking my leave then, Your Majesty?" Anna asks coyly.

Elsa can’t answer, not with the way Anna is working her fingers at her most private areas. Not the teasing way Anna looks at her, smile permanently stickered on her pretty face. As if acknowledging Elsa’s stubbornness, Anna moves her fingers faster, featherlight against her heat.

"Your Grace," Anna says against her ear, low and sultry, "if you wish to be left alone…"

Elsa shuts her eyes tight, jaws clench hard as Anna says one thing and does another. Tension builds along her lower abdomen as Anna peppers kisses along the apples of her cheeks, once in a while allowing her tongue to dip out and onto the velvet of her skin.

"I’ll leave…" Anna starts.

"No," Elsa interrupts, hands suddenly sliding forward and wrapping tightly around the small of Anna’s back. "Don’t leave."

It comes out to real, too honest and aching and painful. For a moment, Anna stills and Elsa knows she’s heard the sharp desperation in her voice. How could Elsa explain that she would be useless if it weren’t for Anna, that a mound of snowmelt wouldn’t bend to her will if Anna had not existed, that all of Arendelle’s fate rested in whether or not Anna smiled at her that morning.

Anna doesn’t bring this up. Instead she leans forward and captures Elsa’s lips in a deep kiss. Slowly, she coaxes Elsa’s mouth open with her tongue. Its easy to forget again now that the haze lust has folded around them, easy forget when Anna’s fingers are moving again. Forget that Elsa is Queen and the act they are committing is treason, forget that Anna is Princess and the same blood runs through her veins, forget that the whole outside this sunny lit room filled with dusty books even exists.

Afterwards, after Elsa has peaked and pushed Anna onto the hundred year old royal desk that has been passed down from generations, after Elsa has dragged the edges of Anna’s skirt to her waist and her tongue has tasted heaven and sin and springtime, they finally calm.

Anna returns to the comfortable position of sprawling herself out on Elsa’s lap. She has one arm draped over her older sister’s shoulders, short nail scraping doodles on the back of Elsa’s neck. Sated, Anna watches Elsa work, eyes skimming whatever pieces of politics has been handed to her. They’ll likely stay like this for the duration of the afternoon, with Anna occasionally shifting positions or choosing a novel to busy herself with.

Elsa doesn’t mind the company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments gives me the happys, please feel free to leave a prompt or let me know what you think. :)


	9. On Time, Love and Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elsa likes taking care of Anna.

Once in a while, Elsa will appear in the mornings to dismiss Anna’s favorite handmaidens with a polite nod. She’ll wake her little sister with a gentle shake and pull her behind the dressing screen. She’ll pull at Anna’s sift until it falls onto the ground, and Anna will sleepily step out of the pool of cloth, still rubbing her eyes. She’ll dress Anna with dedication and care; nimble fingers flickering across freckled skin, delicately tying the laces of her body, smoothing wrinkles with the compassion of a pious woman looking upon her goddess.

 _This is what it feels to worship_ , Elsa would think as she runs a comb through Anna’s auburn tresses. She’s had men, legions of them, fall to her feet. In fear, in adoration, in reverence, they look upon her with a light in their eyes she cannot understand until she looks upon Anna.

The last act of their morning routine is ritualistic. Anna, now awake and dressed beautiful in a gown, carefully lowers herself onto the seat of a chair or bed or another piece of furniture. Elsa will hold a pair of shoes, shined and newly cleaned, to Anna’s heel and proceed to dress her feet. And once it is done, with Elsa on one knee, she’ll look up upon the sight that is her younger sister.

Anna will always be flushed, gazing down at her with parted lips and pink cheeks, her eyes alight with fondness. Slowly, Elsa will push from the ground until she is situated between Anna’s legs, tilting her head to the side and capturing her sister’s lips with her own. They’ll kiss and kiss, and  _kiss_  until the warmth in her chest has tightened into a burning coal. Breaking apart is difficult, and Elsa will only do so once her desires threaten to destroy the image of perfection she has crafted that morning.

The kiss marks the end of their routine, sealing the ceremony with a sin Elsa cannot bring herself to feel guilty for.   

 


	10. On Intoxication

The first shot has Anna grinning and Elsa wincing, alcohol burning down her throat. She’s too old to party now, Elsa thinks, but she couldn’t find the heart to say no to Anna. Not when Anna has her lips pursed, and her eyes hopeful, not when saying yes means seeing her younger sister gasp and squeal and pull her into a hug.

The second shot is easier. Anna is making less of a face splitting smile and looking more mellowed by the minute. They’re at a house party, one of Anna’s many friends, and Elsa is supposed to be “mingling”—its some term Anna conspiratorially whispered to Elsa, breath hot against her ear and so close she’s sure Anna’s lips brushed against her. Supposedly, “mingling” is something people in their age did to interact with other people.

Elsa doesn’t need other people. Elsa needs Anna and her teal eyes and freckles and her rumpled red hair in the early mornings. Elsa needs Anna to smile, even if that means taking another shot that Anna’s pushed her way.

The third comes easy, her lips slightly numb and Anna is looking at her with lidded eyes. They’re both lightweights but Anna is an even lighter weight. Anna is also smoldering hot in her tight pencil skirt and dressy top with a neckline that dipped low enough to screams “I’m single and ready to mingle,”.

Elsa frowns. She finds she doesn’t quite like the thought.

The fourth shot follows the third quickly, Elsa trying to drown out her thoughts. Anna, ever the competitive sport, doesn’t let her older sister gain a lead and downs another even though she’s already leaning against the counter. There’s talking around them, the whole group busting out in laughter every few minutes but Elsa doesn’t say much and, uncharacteristically, neither does Anna. 

Everyone’s drinking too, so no one notices their silence or the way Anna’s eyes are half lidded and glued to the tight shirt that she put Elsa in. No one except Elsa who flushes warmly at the way Anna’s gaze had turned from adoration to hunger.

Its the alcohol, Elsa thinks and then takes another shot to try to forget the tension that’s been building around them for years now. One moment Anna is her younger sister, flat chested and gangly elbows, nervously rambling off her thoughts whenever a boy so much looked at her. And in the blink of an eye, her Anna is thin waisted, bright eyed, smiling flirtatiously not at boys but at Elsa.

She doesn’t understand, doesn’t want to understand. Perhaps her moral compass is broken and her skills at reading people are skewed to an exponential degree because Anna’s looked at her like she’s a girl who can be bedded for the past few years. Anna is looking at her this way now and it sends a jolt between her legs.

A thought, quick as lightning, flashes across her mind. She should remember this, the way Anna is situated on the kitchen stool, cross legged, eyes seductive, taking her bottom lip and biting it. Elsa should remember this look and this moment, it would make her masturbation sessions go by much quicker.

Just as quickly, guilt slams against Elsa. She takes another shot and Anna, probably noticing the frown thats creased into her forehead, steps off the stool and invites Elsa to follow her to the backyard. Elsa agrees after a half second of hesitation.

The open air is nice, the music and chatter becoming muted. A few people are lingering around the pool, but the early March weather is cold enough to make the outside uninviting. Anna finds a dark corner away from any prying eyes and makes it theirs. The cold’s never bothered Elsa, but Anna immediately shivers and presses herself against Elsa for warmth.

Two things happen at once, the first being Elsa’s natural response; wrapping her arms around Anna, pulling her into a half hug as they dizzily take a seat on a lawn chair. The second thing that happens, only happens inside of Elsa’s body, and that is the unmistakable sign of arousal; body heating, her lower belly gathering weight, wetness pooling in places Elsa wants to desperately ignore.

Years and years of delicate touches here and there make themselves known. Suddenly, she’s remembering the time she’s fixing Anna’s bra strap while fighting urge to gather the mound of flesh in her palms. The sound of sliding a zipper up a stylish dress echoes in her ears. Anna had asked her to help but Elsa only wanted to drag that zipper down and have the dress fall to the floor so Elsa can press Anna’s naked back against her front. So that Elsa can push her little sister down, face first, bent over the bed and shove two fingers inside of her.

Anna’s hand drops on Elsa’s thigh, close enough to her knee to make Elsa wonder if its intentional or not.The single action halts all logical thought process.

"Elsa?" Anna’s saying her name but Elsa can’t help but think how it would sound if she had Anna beneath her and wreathing in pleasure. Would she draw out the first syllable in Elsa’s name, or the second? Would she scream when Elsa curled her finger and pressed her tongue against her clit? Elsa wants to know, wants to desperately know.

The hand that’s on Elsa’s thigh begins to move, thumb kneading gentle, soothing circles. “You look sick, Elsa.”

She’s so sick. For all her perfection, her grades and her status as a valedictorian at an Ivy League university, all her grace and properness, Elsa feels as if it all exists to offset the emotions she has to Anna. She’s a disgusting creature full of darkness and carnal want dressed in a sheep’s clothing. A wolf inside a lamb.

"Its the alcohol," Elsa answers, trying to smile. "Kristoff always gets the cheap stuff."

At this, Anna giggles. The thumb keeps moving, keeps reminding Elsa at every stroke how much she desperately wants to pull Anna in her lap and kiss her. As if to drive her mad, Anna lays a warm and wet kiss on her cheek. “You always know how to make me laugh,” she whispers appreciatively. 

Anna’s not moved back and every word the girl breaths is brushing against the shell of Elsa’s ear.

What had she done in her past life to find the most beautiful girl in the world and to be denied the ability to court her, Elsa wonders. Did Anna know anything about personal space? Frustration builds on sexual desire, Elsa wants both to push Anna away and pull her closer.

"I just want you to be happy," Elsa says, more to herself than Anna. A pause. The hand on her thigh squeezes assuringly. Alcohol buzzes in her bloodstream. Elsa looks around, trying to find a focus that wasn’t driving her crazy with arousal. 

It's wasted effort. Everything is deftly clouded and blurry except for Anna, who is, and always has been, bright and colored in Elsa’s dull world. “I love you,” tumbles out of her mouth before she can stop it. It’s said with a breathless, defeated sigh and Elsa doesn’t know if Anna will catch the hidden affection behind her words. 

"I love you too, you silly drunk," Anna singsongs. Its a sisterly response. Anna doesn’t get it.

Elsa cranes over her lap, covering her face with her hands and breaths in deeply. She feels sick, with love, with desire, with the need to push Anna’s hand away and at the same time pull it closer, higher, and even higher. 

“Hey,” Anna sounds worried, “alcohol that bad huh? Is there anything anything I can do?” 

 _Let me drive us home, rip off your cloths and scream my name_ , Elsa wants to say.

There's a tic of silence where Elsa doesn’t know how to respond because her thoughts are so loud and, in the very same moment, quickly realizes that Anna’s hand has stopped moving.

Elsa turns so she’s facing her little sister, squinting against blurry vision to get a good look at her. Anna’s eyes wide like a deer in headlights, jaw dropped, and cheeks red.

Did she just answer Anna out loud?


	11. On Falling

You fall in love with her like the way winter melts into spring; slowly, gradually, a warmth kindling deep in your heart until you are unsure where your sisterly affections ends and where your attraction begins. Its only when you look back, look at the big picture and say this is where winter starts and where spring stops, do you recognize that theres been a change.

When you look back and think she’s lovely from head to toe and realize that you’ve loved her, loved every bit of her since this all began, do you think, with startling calmness, that you’ve fallen for her.

You love her, all her red hair and freckles and the way she smiles even when the world reminds her all the reasons why she shouldn’t. You love her, in all her childishness and all her worldly wisdom even she doesn’t know she has. You have defenses, you’re guarded, you’ve always been even when the castle gates have opened. She doesn’t. Where you’ve stockpiled iron walls and thick bricks to keep all from hurting you, she welcomes the pain. She falls, she stumbles, she cries and she’ll smile tomorrow.

Thats your Anna.

You tell the world this. Well, your world, which consists of Arendelle and a few other friendly dignitaries during Anna’s wedding. You give her your blessings and you tell the world how lucky it is to have her. You tell Kristoff how lucky he is.

You bare no menace to the young man. He’s given to Anna anything and everything, provided things to her that you can’t. Was it such a surprise that this is how it would end? No, but you had hoped.

A depraved part of you had hoped. How obscene, you think, that you wished this had gone differently. Gone in your direction. You shake you head. It’s the wedding’s wine speaking whispers into your ears. You can’t give Anna a wedding, a child, a family, or a normal relationship.

Kristoff is better, you keep telling yourself.


End file.
